Actions

Work Header

Endless Horror

Work Text:

Salem groggily forced his eyes open. His head ached something fierce and his arm was numb, the harsh tingly numb that feels like thousands of needles are poking your skin if you so much as move an inch of your body.

Cold fresh air assaulted his nose, confusing him. The next thing that hit him was the rumble of a truck, bouncing along the gravel path through the creepy forest. Rope bound his limbs together, digging lightly into his skin.

Now more awake, Salem wiggled into an upright position. The severity of the situation sent shivers down his spine as he calmly scanned the truck bed for something to snap or cut the rope. The truck bed was divided by a piece of inch thick construction wood. Sticking out of the wooden wall was a sharp piece of metal.

Wiggling over with some difficulty, Salem held his bound hands up and began to viciously saw the rope. Thankfully it was old and barely sticking together, easily fraying under the persistent pressure Salem exerted.

"Are you awake?" Salem froze, slowly tilting his head in the direction the shaky voice came from. A pair of watery brown eyes nearly made him scream in fright.

"Who are you?" After taking a moment to stabilize his heart, Salem quickly went back to sawing at the rope. "Do you know what's going on?" He kept his voice soft and soothing so that the driver wouldn't realize he was awake and so that the other person would burst into tears or do something else that would get them caught.

"My, my name is Tawny. And you, you're going to d-die." A slight snap barely reached Salem's ears over the rumbling of the truck. Using his teeth he unwound the rope with a few harsh tugs and began untying the rope bounding his ankles.

"I'm not going to die, and neither are you." Salem assured. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he'd read, watched and played everything and anything that related to horror and thriller. If anyone was equipped to handle this kind of scenario, it was Salem London! And yes, his parents were aware of what they were doing when they named him.

Now that he was free, he could take in the situation without wiggling around like a worm. Their kidnapper was smart, only moving them in the cover of darkness and making sure they were both bound somewhat securely, except for the fact that their mouths and eyes were left alone, Salem would give Mr. Kidnapper a 8/10. As for the truck bed, it seemed that during the day it was the resting spot of Mr. Kidnapper's dogs. A large slightly worn dog bed blocked Salem's body from coming in contact with the cold ground, the top of the cage was installed onto the truck with large gaps on the sides to allow the cool night air access into the cage.

Carefully crawling forward, he pulled on the doggy door experimentally. Ah, a 10/10 for security. The locks were both old fashioned and modern; one needed to use a key to open a large padlock, and only when the padlock was off could they type in the code to open the doors. Maybe Mr. Kidnapper had dogs that shit gold, or maybe dogs were just the cover story and kidnapping was his true pass time. For all Salem knew, Mr. Kidnapper could be a cat person.

"I know I won't die," Salem nearly forgot about his fellow prisoner. The woman's dirty finger tightly clasped the wooden barrier as she pressed her upper face forward and stared at Salem with a hint of madness. "They never kill me. It's always the person in that cage that dies." Tears streamed down her face in a never ending river as she began to sob. "They'll kill, and you won't escape."

Ignoring the woman's pessimistic outlook on his situation, she said two things of real importance. Salem was looking at two people, so a Mr. Kidnapper and a Mrs. Kidnapper, and for whatever reason, they felt his fellow hostage was either special, held some kind of significance as a later sacrifice, or thought she was their pet/slash heir. These were only the three options that Salem thought were best suited for this scenario, if he wanted he could create a novel about all the reasons they had yet to kill her, but that just seemed a bit too dark considering his own position.

The truck suddenly took a sharp turn. With all the elegance of a feline, Salem managed to twist his body around and catch himself before he could smack his head against the metal wall blocking the truck bed from the cab where the driver sat. Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Salem moved to the side, curling his fingers around the metal bar in-between two gaps as he peered out at their surroundings.

They appeared to be slowing down to an almost crawl as they slowly headed towards a large house. Salem gave the house a 6/10 on the creep factor as abandoned mansions were getting a bit too old. Then again, that also made them a classic. A thick stench of iron made Salem gag, drawing back so that he could cover his mouth and nose with his hoodie sleeve. The woman's sobbing only increased and Salem could understand why.

A mutated corpse of a woman was casually dumped on the lawn. Her arms and legs had been twisted horribly to the point that the sharp end of a bone stuck out of her leg. Her neck had purple bruises from the rope that was left in a small pile beside her, part of it still wrapped around her neck like a loose necklace. Her stomach had been gutted like a deer to reveal the bloody bones of her chest cavity. Some blood and a few organs had been left to float around, but the more major ones that even a grade schooler knew about like her heart and lungs were gone.

All though Salem had seen far worse gore, that was always on a screen or animated in a game, seeing something like that in real life made his stomach do sickening flips as if to shout that he should be glad he still had his and caused his heart to start pumping adrenaline.

The truck came to a halt, something he barely noticed had it not been for the engine cutting off with a dying rumble. Taking the chance to shakily inhale the blood scented air, Salem forced his breathing to calm down and quickly tied the ropes around his legs loosely before casually tucking the already frayed rope under his arms and against his chest. With that he layed back down in a position similar to the one he had awoken in and closed his eyes.

"It won't work." Miss Pessimist said with so much pity that Salem had a very loud intrusive thought about just leaving her here when he escapes. After a few seconds of shifting the truck door opened with a creek and then slammed shut. Labored breathing echoed loudly in the suddenly silent setting as Mr. Kidnapper rounded the truck bed. The jingling of keys seemed extra loud as Mr. Kidnapper unlocked the padlock and typed in a four digit code.

One should know that at 18 years old Salem was only 162 centimeters tall, and so from an early age he had decided high heels were going to be his best friends. So when Mr. Kidnapper opened the door, all of Salem's 5 foot and 3 inches of body weight were transferred into a kick that dug his heeled boots straight into the man's face. In a single smooth motion he slid out of the truck bed and leapt over the fallen kidnapper wannabe to open Miss Pessimists door. The only thing he hadn't counted on, was his fellow hostage apologizing tearfully before smacking a piece of plywood into the back of his head.

⚠️

Waking up twice with your hands bound and your head aching was really too much. "Honeybear, are you awake?" The voice was quite attractive and alluring, with just a slight husk that would make any girl blush. Thankfully Salem wasn't a girl (he was also eighty percent sure he was asexual, so) or else his cover would have been blown. "Please open your eyes, I really want to see what they look like." A warm hand slowly brushed against his cheek followed by a pair of warm lips pressed against his slumped head. "If you won't wake up, I'll just have to make you." The teasing whisper was all the man did before his footsteps faded away.

Salem snapped to action and immediately scanned his surroundings. A pair of soft fluffy cuffs that looked like they belonged in a sex dungeon were attached to a long chain that hung from the ceiling some twelve feet above the ground. His feet barely touched the ground and if Salem slipped the bucket he had been placed on would roll away and strain his arms to the point of uselessness.

The room, however, was horribly familiar. Salem's father is an exotic butcher, so he had grown up around something most would consider scary and perfect for a haunted house. As such, Salem could name every type of blade hanging on the wall across from him, and he knew for a fact that the gambrel hooks that dangled besides the wall to his right were so that the suspended carcasses would be more spread out. Currently a lump of meat was hanging upside down and almost perfectly skinned. Upon closer inspection, Salem came to the horrible realization that Mr. Kidnapper had been killed by Mrs. Kidnapper who turned out to be a Mr. Butcher instead.

"No! Please, please, please, let me go! Please I've been a good girl! Don't do this, oh God! Please don't!" The cries of Miss Pessimist startled Salem out of his miniature prayer for Mr. Kidnapper to go to hell. Miss Pessimist was being dragged by her hair into the room, the man who was dragging her was unfairly attractive.

Salem thought about playing dead for all of a second before deciding that it wasn't worth it, after all, he was pretty sure Mr. Butcher was about to use Miss Pessimist to force Salem into obedience. When the man met Salem's gaze he seemed to freeze up before becoming elated, swiftly releasing his hold on the woman's hair to rush over and capture Salem's face in-between his hands.

"I knew you were awake!" The man smiled brightly as he stared straight into Salem's eyes. "Oh my, your eyes are so beautiful! Such a pretty mixture of purple and blue, like soft pastel paint mixing together." Salem narrowed his eyes, coming to a very horrible realization. "Honeybear," The man leaned forward causing their noses to touch. "Once I add your eyes to my collection you'll have to stay with me." A soft chuckle left the man's lips as he moved to kiss Salem's forehead before pulling back. "I'm afraid you've lost your use Darcey! So now I'll have to keep your eyes as a reminder of how naughty you were!"

While the man cackled insanely, Darcey had finally gotten off of the ground to try and run. If it was Salem, he would have booked it the second he was released, but not everyone was as smart as him in terrifying situations. Darcey didn't get far before the smiling maniac grabbed her dirty brown hair and dragged her to the table in the middle of the room. In the slightly better lighting, Salem could see that what he had thought originally were brown eyes were actually hazel eyes.

"Don't! Please, please just let me go!" Darcey began to scream, her words mingling together with laughing and sobbing. The woman had probably been teetering along the abyss of insanity for a while as she watched victims be killed brutally in front of her, and now her death seemed to be the final push.

The man pulled out a jar with a weird yellowish liquid inside along with a weird tool that highly resembled an ice cream scooper. "Fuck," Salem couldn't stop the words from slipping out of his mouth as Darcey continued to struggle against the leather restraints. This was really happening, a murder was about to scope out a woman's eyes before scooping out his own so that he could stay with him! With all his strength Salem tried to pull the chain loose from the ceiling while balancing on the bucket.

"Oh no," The man chuckled and set down his stuff before approaching Salem who had moved onto the fluffy handcuffs. "Can't have your beautiful eyes tarnished, Honeybear!" With a flourish the man pulled a black blindfold from his pocket and slipped it onto Salem completely blocking his sight. "It'll all be quick and painless!" This was followed by another kiss, this time to his covered eyes.

{Wanna save the girl and live?}

[What?] Salem unconsciously answered the strange voice mentally.

{To save the girl and yourself you must simply kiss the Boss. Or as you referred to him, Mr. Butcher.}

[Are you mentally insane! You want me to kiss the serial killer who has a thing for eyes? Do you know how fucked up that is?] Salem gave another harsh tug on the handcuffs only to freeze as he heard a blood curdling scream of pain. What happened to quick and painless? "Wait!" Salem quickly called out, inhaling a shaky breath as he steeled his nerves. "Please, will you kiss me?"

Other than Darcey's sobbing, there was deathly silence. Just as Salem was ready to call it quits and resign to his death, a pair of soft lips landed on his own. The man gently nibbled on his lower lip, tracing the shape with his tongue before slipping in and prying open his teeth. The man's tongue explored every inch of Salem's warm cavern until the smaller male was left panting and gasping for air.

{Congratulations! You just successfully captured your first Panorama Boss!}